


Pancake Prime

by Artemis_Dreamer



Series: Squishy MegOp [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dessert & Sweets, Drabble, Fat Robots, Fluff, Food/Feeding Kink, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: Thundercracker had once joked that the warlord's true calling was as a line cook. Thundercracker had promptly lost three dentae and his dignity.---In which Megatron is devious and Optimus eats pancakes. Lots of pancakes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is a work of fetish fiction, involving unhealthy eating, belly stuffing and weight gain.
> 
> Don't like, don't read.

With an expert flick of his wrist joint, Megatron flipped another blueberry pancake out of the pan and onto a steadily growing stack. Another flick of his wrist joint, doling out the perfect amount of batter for yet another pancake. 

There were nearly two dozen large, fluffy pancakes already on the plate, piled high in a crooked and rather unstable tower. 

Megatron hummed tunelessly as he cooked, losing himself in the simple repetition of such a mundane task. Thundercracker had once joked that the warlord's true calling was as a line cook. Thundercracker had promptly lost three dentae and his dignity.

One last pancake, deftly flipped from the pan onto the precarious stack. Megatron had made an even two dozen, in less time than it took some mechs to get their afts out of berth in the morning.

Speaking of mornings, Optimus Prime was still asleep in their shared berth, even with the sun well over the horizon. Blame it on some loose wires in a faulty old alarm clock - or on Megatron. Everything was going according to the warlord's plan.

Smirking, the warlord tipped half a bottle of energon syrup over the towering stack of pancakes, smothered them in whipped cream, and topped them off with a generous handful of chocolate chips. Sickeningly sweet, just the way his conjunx liked them. 

Now, to set the plan into motion. 

"Good morning, sweetspark," Megatron purred the words into the Prime's audio. Optimus onlined his optics, and his olfactory receptors soon followed. His gorgeous conjunx had just woken him up with a heaping stack of warm, freshly made pancakes - mornings didn't get much more perfect than this.

"You made breakfast?" Optimus yawned inquiringly, rubbing the recharge from his optics as he sat up. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion," Megatron smirked. "I wasn't aware that I needed a reason to spoil my little Prime." He reached out and gently pinched the softness of the Prime's rounded cheekplate between his claws.

Optimus was about to make a comment about condescension, about how they'd literally discussed this yesterday - until his empty tanks interrupted his train of thought with a loud growl. 

"Hungry?" Megatron's tone was thoroughly amused as he placed the heaping plate in the Prime's lap. A lap that was becoming softer and wider with each passing decaorn, as the warlord indulged his conjunx with all manner of delicious fuels. 

Call it reciprocity - the more weight that Megatron himself gained, the more he fed his conjunx. If the warlord was going to grow massively fat from his overindulgence on human fuels, he would drag the Prime right down with him. 

Optimus tried to curb his eagerness as he dug his fork into the topmost pancake. It wasn't dignified for a Prime to carelessly stuff his faceplates with fuel, even though it was sorely tempting. Megatron's pancakes - Pit, all of Megatron's breakfasts - were irresistibly delicious. 

The flavour of the first pancake was lost in the incredible sweetness of syrup and whipped cream. Optimus stifled a moan at the intensity of the taste. His conjunx heard it anyway. 

The flavour of the second pancake was much clearer, and the Prime paused to savour it. The dough was sweet and fluffy, interspersed liberally with tart, fresh blueberries. Sheer perfection. The pancake was gone all too soon, and Optimus found himself greedily stuffing another into his mouth, then another, and another after that.

Slaggit. It wasn't dignified, but he couldn't help it. Nomech could. Even Soundwave couldn't resist the lure of Megatron's cooking, and the masked mech had a will of iron. 

The warlord looked on with pleased amusement as his conjunx ate. His Prime was hopelessly greedy, and hopelessly in denial. Reaching out a servo, he brushed a bit of whipped cream from the Prime's cheekplate, and licked it slowly off of his claws. 

His own tanks growled. Pit, he should have eaten something before making a meal for his conjunx. Megatron shook his helm, continuing to watch every bite that the Prime took. He had endured worse. It was worth it to witness such incredible indulgence from a typically reserved mech.

The pancakes were half gone now, Optimus realized, rather disappointed. The pancakes were half gone now, and he still didn't feel even remotely full. That was worrying. Since when had he been able to eat this much in one sitting? Optimus swore that just last decaorn, a dozen pancakes had been enough to stuff him silly. 

Clearly he'd been allowing Megatron to feed him far too much, far too often. He scowled disapprovingly at the warlord.

In response, Megatron firmly kneaded the Prime's stomach with his massive servos, humming with pleasure as his claws sunk into the deliciously soft plating. His conjunx flushed with pleased embarrassment, promptly stuffing another pancake into his mouth in an attempt to hide his blush. 

Rational thought was all but lost to the Prime as his conjunx continued these affectionate ministrations. All that mattered was the teasing caress of Megatron's claws on his chassis, and the irresistible flavour of the pancakes in his mouth.

As he continued to fuel, Optimus noted with satisfaction that he was finally starting to feel properly full. He was loathe to admit it to anymech, but he had become addicted to the feeling of fullness, addicted to his sparkmate's touch, and hopelessly addicted to these delicious organic fuels. 

The Prime moaned around another mouthful of pancake, and Megatron smirked broadly. His little Prime looked positively irresistible with his mouth full, plump cheekplates bulging as he chewed. His gluttonous little Prime.

Soon, only a single pancake remained from a stack of two dozen. Optimus huffed an exvent of exertion - by now he was completely full, but to waste even one of these delicious treats would be inexcusable. He carefully maneuvered the pancake around the plate, mopping up all of the remaining syrup and whipped cream. Nothing should go to waste. 

The flavours of the fluffy dough, tart berries, and excruciatingly sweet syrup were as delicious now as they had been when he had first started his meal. With considerable effort, Optimus chewed and swallowed. 

Megatron plucked the empty plate from his conjunx's lap, setting it aside, before leaning in to capture the Prime's lipplates in a lingering kiss. Both mechs moaned with pleasure. Deepening the kiss, the tyrant savoured the taste of pancakes and syrup in his sparkmate's mouth. Sheer perfection.

Several long moments passed in mutual bliss before Megatron finally broke the kiss. Optimus yawned broadly, and the tyrant's fond smile became an amused smirk.

"Rest, Prime," Megatron purred, easing his conjunx back down into the pillows. Stuffed full of the most delicious pancakes on Cybertron, Optimus was too drowsy and content to put up even the slightest resistance.

The warlord continued to massage the Prime's stomach, running his servos over the firm bulge that had formed beneath that malleable plating, caressing it with his dangerous claws. Optimus smiled tiredly, optics slowly shuttering as he relaxed into Megatron's touch. His conjunx knew his every weakness. 

Within a few kliks, the Prime had fallen back into recharge. The plan was a complete success.

Megatron's own tanks growled loudly, and he belatedly realized that he still had yet to eat anything. No matter, there was still plenty of pancake batter left in the kitchen.

Prime had eaten two dozen of those delicious breakfast treats, packing his overworked tanks full of sweet, syrupy pastry. Megatron smirked, patting his own massive stomach.

He could easily eat twice as many.

**Author's Note:**

> In response to a chubby Optimus request I received on Part 1 of this series - always happy to oblige. I'll be posting more chubby Megatron soon, I promise.
> 
> With apologies to 1JettaPug.
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated.


End file.
